The Price of Staying Safe
by Brii Taylor
Summary: A one-shot I wrote last night. AU because both Jo and Stella were there. Don't get excited because of the 'T' rating, it's only because there's mild language. Heavier than usual.


She watched them walk by, the picture of happiness. She forced back the bile in her throat, pushing away with it the desire to wrap her arms around her torso once again and try to breathe. There was nothing that hurt more—nothing that gave her more pain, nothing that drove her nearly as mad, nothing that left her more vulnerable—than watching them walk by, smiling, touching each other lightly, cluing them all in on their intimacy. She turned away and closed her eyes against the images, begging her mind to wander to somewhere else—anywhere else. Anywhere but here.

It wasn't like she wanted him unhappy. She wanted him to be happy. She would love for him to be happy. She was happy for him that he was happy. She put on the smiles and pulled, from somewhere in her, the sparkle to put into her eyes and the sincerity to inject into her voice. She managed, somehow, to wish him happiness. She kept the smiles on her face until they turned away. Then she felt her façade begin to crumble, felt the tears at the back of her eyes and the hardness in her throat that made it hard to breathe. She forced it all away, forced herself to forget it. He was happy. She was not. But he was. And that's all that mattered. Ugh, she cringed at that very thought. Here she was, sounding like a teenage girl, trying to put on a brave face for the man she _loved_. She wasn't sure she loved anyone anymore. She didn't need anyone. She didn't want anyone. It was too much work; and besides, it was too dangerous to have anyone. She would get hurt, of course; she hadn't even taken any chances this time and she'd gotten hurt. The misreading into a gesture, the lies behind his words that he didn't even know he was telling—but she stopped herself again. Now she was sounding insane, like a stalker. She couldn't do this to herself. Not again.

Not again.

She sat down at her desk and closed her eyes, briefly imagining, for just a second, what she would say to him, were she not so emotionally stunted, were she braver.

_"Mac?" She'd ask, stepping lightly into his office. He'd look up from a file he was reading, the residual light happiness that she'd brought him even a half-hour before still on his face, in his eyes, in his heart, making him smile at her._

_"Yes, Stella?" he'd ask, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. She wouldn't be able to help but return a smile, since his, once rare, now more frequent, always made her smile, too. She'd swing the door shut behind her._

_"I was wondering if we could talk a moment," she'd say nervously. His smile would start to fade, seeing the look on her face._

_"Sure. What's wrong?" he'd ask, worried. It was a natural reaction for someone who she'd been friends with for years. _

_This was the part that was always the hardest to imagine. Call her a coward, but she never thought she would actually have the balls to ask him on the first go. Usually she would tell him a few things about whatever case they were working before she finally got the courage to ask. This time, however, she wasn't in the mood to bullshit around._

_"I was just wondering what was going on between you and Jo," she'd ask, eyeing him levelly while praying that he wouldn't see through her charade of calm. His smile would fade completely, and the happiness in his eyes would vanish as they tightened slightly, closing any emotion. This was usually the part where he denied everything._

_"Nothing's going on, Stella," he'd say blandly, turning back to his file. The slight hunch to his shoulders would give him away, though, and this time, it would make her mad._

_"Don't say that," she'd say heavily, trying to keep the anger from shaking her voice. "I know it, Danny knows it, Lindsay knows it, Adam knows it. Everyone knows something changed between you two." She'd try to soften her voice, trying not to sound so accusatory. "Mac, there's no use denying it. You two are involved. You've hidden it well, actually; the rest of them only just figured it out."_

_"The rest of them?" he'd ask slowly. She'd nod her head._

_"Yeah. I've known for weeks," she'd admit evenly. She'd make her way to his desk and sit down on one of the chairs, crossing her legs primly._

_"Really?" he'd ask, his voice empty of any inflection. She'd nod._

_"I just happened to notice when the both of you showed up two days in a row wearing the same clothes," she'd say. Her voice was no longer calm now; even in her private mind, her own private fantasy, she couldn't quite believe that she'd be able to keep up the calm for too long. "I mean, you I could understand, but her? She'll at least change a shirt. But no. Same turquoise shirt, black skirt, black blazer cut just so, even the same earrings, same necklace. And the way you two were looking at each other, well, a blind woman could see it."_

_Mac raised an eyebrow at her. "They why didn't anyone else notice?"_

_There was always just a beat of silence before Stella would say the last words, no matter how upset she was, no matter how brave her anger and hurt made her. "Maybe the blind woman would have to be in love with you to see it."_

_The end was always different. Sometimes she'd stand up and just leave his office, walking calmly and rationally while the insanity racked her privately. Other times she'd turn her head to the side and let a single tear slide down her hidden cheek. Sometimes she'd just break down, sobbing right where she sat. Sometimes, if she was feeling melodramatic, she'd slowly dissolve and walk out crying. But one thing never changed._

_He never said a damn thing. Not a word. Not an "I'm sorry." Not an "I didn't know". Not even one._

She opened her eyes and realized that they were wet. So she had been crying after all. She blinked, dried her eyes on the cuffs of her sweater. She took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. These were the burdens she had to carry. This was the price of staying safe.


End file.
